


Companion

by woahnope



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Dogs, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 00:02:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9210962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woahnope/pseuds/woahnope
Summary: Makkachin is a lonely dog, so Viktor and Yuuri find him a friend. (based onthis prompt)





	

**Author's Note:**

> i don’t own any of the characters here (other than my OC masya), neither am i particularly well-versed in russian dog names. i also don’t live in russia and i don’t know a lot of russian. if i make any mistakes, do let me know! i also deviated from the prompt a little just so that i could include a little part about dog shelters. adopt, guys! you never know how much love you could give an animal in need.
> 
> also, i listened to [bloom](https://open.spotify.com/track/44alNkXsYnTyPnkMdohBcx) by the paper kites while writing this. it really sets the mood i 10/10 recommend

Makkachin came under Viktor’s care when he was fifteen. He had never had a real pet before. His family owned a pet goldfish when he was four, but he never had to carry out the mundane tasks of feeding, clearing the tank or even checking to see if it was alive. One day, he came back from training as he usually did, only to find the goldfish floating upside down at the top of the tank. It was the same day Viktor learned of the goldfish’s name.

He never had a connection to anything other than figure skating before fifteen, really. School was like a damning prison cell to Viktor, and he never bothered to interact with any of his classmates after school. He never joined any clubs in school because of his hectic training and competition schedule. Most of his days before fifteen started with a morning jog, then came school, then it was straight to the rink for training, ballet lessons three times weekly, and then he went home. Throw in the occasional competition overseas, national meets and gala events and that would pretty much sum up Viktor Nikiforov’s life.

In stark contrast to Viktor Nikiforov’s life in the limelight, his aunt ran a dog shelter. It remains standing in the bleakness of suburban St. Petersburg, surrounded by high-rise apartment blocks. There was a vast space behind the dog shelter that would be covered in snow when winter came around. The sound of the railway tracks colliding with the wheels of a train would wake the dogs up at exactly nine in the evening, when the overnight train ran past the shelter. Viktor would visit his relatives in the suburbs once a year, excited to seek refuge from his increasingly mundane life.

It was at the dog shelter where Viktor met Makkachin. The standard poodle had been abandoned by his owner a month prior to his admission to the dog shelter. Makkachin was a small thing of wonder. In the month he was homeless, the canine had repeatedly visited his ex-owner, almost pleading to return to the safe haven. Alas, his loyalty was not well-received, and Makkachin was left in the cold of the Russian winter to fend for himself.

It was in the same Russian winter that Viktor’s aunt gingerly handed Makkachin to him. Viktor had been enamoured with Makkachin since he saw the poodle’s wide eyes and heard his soft coo for attention. Viktor vowed to care for Makkachin, stroking the dog’s fur on the train back to urban St. Petersburg, where his life would start all over again.

* * *

Since then, Viktor had been less than a responsible dog owner. Yes, he left food in the dog bowl before he left and pleaded for his neighbours to feed and play with Makkachin. Yes, he bought treats for Makkachin when he returned from his tiring competitions and sponsor events overseas. Yet, the amount of time Viktor spent petting and playing with his dog was abysmal. In a year, he was probably home with the poodle for 4 months at a maximum.

Last year, however, five-time world champion in figure skating Viktor Nikiforov decided to take a break and retire to a peaceful haven in Hasetsu, Japan. He brought just a duffel bag of his clothes, toiletries and some money, as well as his eleven-year-old poodle. He had his reasons. In the time he was in Hasetsu, he fell in love with another skater, Yuuri Katsuki, coached him full-time, and the both of them spent more time with Makkachin than ever. Viktor would let Makkachin tag along everywhere, and the furball would follow Viktor to bed every evening. He never let his animal companion go, and it was in that time that Viktor began to understand Makkachin’s needs and habits.

For some reason, though, Viktor’s fiancé seemed to know the canine better. Maybe it was because Yuuri tagged along with Viktor on pet food shopping adventures, or maybe it was because Yuuri brushed his fur and muttered sweet nothings in Makkachin’s ear more often than not. Both reasons were fine with Viktor. Either way, they were like a happy family.

* * *

“Wouldn’t Makka want a friend?” Yuuri asked off-handedly one evening. It was the off-season. Viktor and Yuuri were in the former man’s apartment in Russia. The couple lay on a super-single bed, Makkachin resting across their chests. Soft music was playing in the background, and Viktor tangled his fingers in Yuuri’s.

“Why?”

“Isn’t Makkachin lonely?”

It was as if realisation dawned upon Viktor after that sentence left Yuuri’s mouth. He had never noticed the sheer lack of bonding time they shared, especially in the countless years before the year Viktor moved to Japan. In that moment, he thought of the dog’s loneliness and how nice it would be to take care of two dogs with his lover.

“Yuuri?” Viktor asked quietly, trying not to break the calm atmosphere. Yuuri hummed in response. “We’re going to the nearest dog shelter tomorrow.”

* * *

When the light shone through the window the next morning, Viktor woke up to the sound of the shower running. The smell of freshly-cooked eggs and miso soup wafted through the air. His dog was nowhere to be seen. When the shower was shut off, Yuuri came out of the bathroom in a grey T-shirt,  a light blue sweater and jeans.

“I walked Makkachin this morning,” was the sentence that put Viktor at ease. “He’s in the living room.”

A peck on the lips, a brush to his teeth, a shower and some clothes later, Viktor joined Yuuri at the dining table with his laptop in tow. “Are we really going to that dog shelter, then?” Viktor asked. Yuuri nodded. Viktor then proceeded to familiarise himself with the route from his native Petrogradsky District to Vyborgskaya. Fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard, and the clicking of the mouse resounded through the air of the silent apartment.

It was as if Makkachin understood the prior conversation, as he wagged his tail, barking elatedly. “You’re getting a friend, Makka,” Viktor cooed, petting the dog. Viktor finally stowed the laptop for breakfast.

“Eat up, Viktor, we’re going to be in for a long day!” Yuuri reminded his fiancé. A long day it would be, indeed.

* * *

As they got off the train, Viktor stretched his arms. Yuuri wiped the sleep out of his eyes as he approached the silver-haired man with Makkachin in tow. Makkachin didn’t hold back, and threw himself into Viktor’s arms at the opportunity. “It’s like he doesn’t love me anymore…” Yuuri sighed, head lowered in rejection.

Viktor ruffled his hair and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You know it isn’t like that. Now come on, let’s go to the dog shelter, Солнышко моё!”

* * *

A wave of nostalgia washed over Viktor as he approached the gates of the dog shelter he was once so familiar with. The sound of the dogs welcoming him calmed him, and the eyes of the new puppies melted his heart.

“Vitya!” A familiar voice called for Viktor’s attention. He hadn’t seen his aunt in ages, and the surprise visit had her gushing all kinds of fluids in her delight. Viktor introduced Yuuri to her (“my fiancé,” he says proudly), and she proceeded to give the two visitors a tour of the dog shelter. Viktor looked around and noted that there were several new pens. Thankfully, none of the canines seemed to be severely injured; in the past, a new day at the shelter meant seeing one or two dogs that suffered some kind of unsolicited bloodshed.

Viktor suddenly noted that the waist his arm was supposed to be wrapped around had gone missing. As it turned out, Yuuri was caught up in his conversation with Viktor’s aunt and walked ahead of him. _Huh, looks like someone is really into dogs_ , Viktor thinks to himself.

Before long, the trio had reached the boundary of the dog shelter, and they could finally explore the shelter freely. The couple linked hands and Viktor wrapped his fingers around Yuuri’s, feeling for the golden ring on his fourth finger. Yuuri had other ideas, however.

“Can we wash the dogs, тётя? Pet them?” Yuuri asked. Viktor felt a tug in his chest. It is in moments like this that Viktor is reminded of how lucky he is to be in a relationship of such pure love. Before he knew it, Viktor was pulled to the far corner of the dog shelter by Yuuri, who was armed with a water hose and a brush for washing the dogs.

Yuuri stopped abruptly and turned to look at Viktor. “I left Makka with тётя, is that alright?” he asks, almost as if it was an afterthought. Viktor nodded, a tender smile on his face. Yuuri always thought of everything ahead of time. _Maybe that’s why he overthinks._

They spent the afternoon showering the canines with the love they mightn’t have gotten in the past, but that they deserved. By the end of it, both of them were soaked to the bone. Yuuri and Viktor played with each dog like it was Makkachin, never picking favourites.

Until Viktor stumbled upon a cavalier. Its ears were chestnut, as were the markings all over its body. It had snow white fur and doe eyes. Yuuri’s eyes followed Viktor’s. The look on Yuuri’s face said it all. Wondering what the two were so interested in, Viktor’s aunt approached them with Makkachin in tow. Makkachin wriggled under her hold, wagging his tongue in joy, upon seeing the cavalier. _Looks like Makka likes her too_ , Viktor thought to himself.

“What’s its name?” Yuuri asked. He looked like he had a million questions he wanted to ask Viktor’s aunt about the dog, and it had been less than a minute since they were acquainted.

“I call her Masya. She’s a good one, you know, but she came to me with a dry eye. Her owner was a young student who lived down the street, but he didn’t have the means to take care of her, what with her sensitivity. She’s okay now, though, Девочка моя–” Viktor’s aunt explained.

Yuuri couldn’t stop himself. “Is she up for adoption?”

* * *

 

Viktor and Yuuri made their way to the Metro station. Yuuri held Makkachin, and Viktor held Masya. The two dogs were already getting along as well as Yuuri and Viktor did two weeks into their training sessions, neither barking or being aggressive to the other. Viktor was already stroking Masya like his own, muttering into her ear questions that the canine didn’t answer.

“It’s as if you love Masya more than you love me, дорогая. I’m jealous,” Yuuri said playfully. No hard feelings.

Viktor pecked his fiancé on the lips. “You know I love you more than anything in the world, Yuuri.”

“I’m so happy we’ve made this little family, Viktor.” The response?

“We can finally go on double dates! Aren’t you excited?”

Yuuri rolled his eyes and paced ahead of his lover. _This man will never change. Not like I want him to, anyway._  They were happy like this, just the two of them in their own little bubble, with two dogs of their own and love permeating every part of their lives.

**Author's Note:**

> Солнышко моё: Russian for 'my sun(shine)'  
> тётя: Russian for 'aunt'  
> Девочка моя: Russian for 'my little girl'  
> Дорогая: Russian for 'dear'
> 
> also, Masya (Мася) means 'little one'.
> 
> i'm [um-dont](http://um-dont.tumblr.com) on tumblr! you can read my ongoing chaptered fic _[walking in the wind](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8998648)_ and send me prompts [here](http://um-do.tumblr.com/prompts).


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